Vocaloid Hunger Games
by Avii Sohen
Summary: Your favorite vocaloid are now living in the 12 districts of Panem and have been selected as tributes. How will they cope with the stress, tragedy and impending death? Lots of death. Rated T for now. Later chapters will be rated M for sexual themes. From the point of view of many 'loids.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1~ Goodbyes

The District 5 Reaping

"Rin Kagamine."

My name. They called my name.

"Rin Kagamine," the announcer calls again.

My pulse quickens. This can't be happening.

"Rin Kagamine please come to the stage," he says, his tone more forceful now.

A shove from behind pushes me forward. I walk. I can only hear the sound of blood rushing in my ears. As my eyes dart back and forth, faces blur around me. Thousands of eyes straining to get a look at the female tribute. My brain feels fuzzy. I want to faint. I want to run. I want to scream. But I can't do anything. I only walk. Somehow, I'm standing on the stage in front of a microphone.

"How old are you miss?"

"14," I breathe into the microphone. I feel so small and my voice sounds so loud. In the sea of faces I spot a familiar one. It's the face of my brother, Len.

He is shocked and scared an horrified. His mouth hangs open. I suddenly feel tears in my eyes. This is the last day I will see him. The last day I will be able to hear his voice and breathe his air. I'm leaving my only friend, my only family, my only brother, forever.

I'm realizing so many things as I stand on the stage. _I'm going to die, _I think. I will be killed by another tribute. Or maybe I'll starve. Or I might get sick and slowly rot away. I might kill people. The thought makes me shudder. And the worst part of all is that I'm going to have to do it alone. Before I can stop it a tear rolls down my cheek. I don't wipe it away, I just let it fall.

"RIN!" Len screams my name from the crowd. An adult clamps their hand over his mouth silencing him.

"And now let us pick our male tribute!" the announcer says gleefully.

My head is still spinning. My heart is still pounding. Len is still struggling to break free of whomever has restrained him. Our announcer unfolds a piece of paper and reads it aloud,

"Len Kagamine."

A wave of shock. A pang of relief. A hurricane of despair. My brother has been picked. He shakes off the adult and runs to the stage. When he reaches me he is out of breath and smiling a backwards smile.

"Oh ho!" the announcer laughs, "A brother-sister team! This is the first in hunger Games history!" He is excited beyond words. Surely this will get him a promotion or a raise.

I try to decipher my feelings. I'm guilty because I'm relieved. Fate granted my wish. I'm not going to die alone. But Len will die too. God must truly be a sick man.

We are lead into a back room. No one from our district comes to say goodbye to us. Len and I don't speak. We don't cry. We just sit there trying to comprehend what is happening. Len turns to look at me.

"We're in this together," he says, "Like everything else we're in this together."

I don't say anything in return. I know that my voice will break if I speak. His words almost make me smile. But its a sick and twisted sort of smile. The smile someone makes when they are lying down on an executioners block.

The District 4 Reaping

"Lily Katsuya."

I breathe a small sigh of relief. I have not been chosen this year. I watch as Lily walks up to the stage. I remember talking to her once or twice, but I doubt she even knows my name. This horrible day is half over, all that is left is the male tribute and then my brother and I can go home...

"Oliver Akita."

A smothering silence falls over the crowd. My hearts stops and panic fills my eyes. My hands start to tremble.

"Oliver Akita."

A small blonde boy breaks rank and starts to walk towards the stage. I look away. I can't watch.

"How old are you young man?" the announcer asks, her voice sickeningly sweet.

"12," he says a little sadly.

I feel tears rolling down my cheeks. He's such a little boy. He's too young, too pure, too small. How can they take him away from me? To be killed! Slaughtered by another child!

The tributes are lead into a back room. I stand next to Lily's parents and wait for the door to open. I have three minutes to say goodbye.

The door opens and I run to Oliver and hug him tightly.

"I'm scared, Neru," he whispers.

My hearts shatters into thousands of tiny shards. I hug him tighter, my tears falling into his hair.

"You're just going to have to be brave. Can you do that for me?" I try to sound as confident and soothing as possible. I don't want him to see my tears. He nods his head. I break away from the hug and quickly rub the tears out of my eyes.

"When you're scared just remember that I'm watching you on the television. Just be a brave little boy..." My voice trails off. Such pretty words for such a dark day.

"I'm not going to win, am I?" Oliver says, his voice faltering a little.

I shake my head no. I've never lied to him and I don't intend to start now.

"I'd go in your place if I could," I whisper, my voice trembling. I stare at Oliver, trying to etch every part of him into my memory. Even when he's gone I'll never forget. This moment will stay with me forever.

The doors fling open and two capitol workers march in. "Your three minutes are up! Get out!" they say.

I put my hands on his shoulders and shake him gently. "Oliver, I have to go. You're going to have to take care of yourself," I say.

Oliver gulps and nods curtly. His eyes brimming with fear. I give him one last hug before I am pushed out of the room, the door slammed in my face.

Such a brave little boy. Such a short little life. Such a small cruel world.

District 10 Reaping

A small girl named Aoki Lapsis stands trembling on the stage. You can feel the fear radiating off of her, and she has a good reason to be scared. She knows that she won't last long in the games. In fact it wouldn't surprise me if she was one of the first ones killed. Her parents will be devistated.

I can't help but laugh a little when I think about her parents. Parents are something I've never had in my life. The whole concept of having someone more mature than yourself looking after you has baffled me. I've never had parents or siblings or even friends to look after me, just as I've never looked after anyone else. I've made it just fine on my own. It hasn't been easy but I make do.

Sometimes, I'm actually kind of glad that I'm isolated. I don't have to care about anyone. Caring gets you hurt. Caring takes too much energy, when you need all of your energy just to survive. It's also easier on other people. No one has to care if I die.

Oh, poor Aoki. The announcer will not stop talking to her. Can't he see that she's practically sobbing out of sheer terror? Can't he see her parents in the audience trying to put on a brave face for their daughter, and failing miserably? I think he notices, and is just playing a sick joke on them. He probably enjoys torturing his tributes and their loved ones for the brief time he has to interact with them.

Finally, he starts to pick the male tribute. It doesn't really matter who gets picked. No one from our district ever wins anyway.

"Kaito Shion," he reads.

All eyes turn to look at me. I am Kaito Shion.

"Kaito Shion," the voice repeats.

A small flicker of panic courses through my body, but I quickly silence it. I walk up to the stage and stand next to Aoki. My face shows nothing but indifference.

"How old are you, boy?" the announcer inquires.

"I'm 18," I say, the I add, "I was only one year away from being free."

My comment sends murmurs through the crowd. I smile. If I am going to die, I might as well go out in style.

After the announcer asks me a few more questions, and I give a few more snarky responses, Aoki and I are lead into a back room. As soon as the door slams behind us, Aoki sits on the bench, pulls her knees up to her chest and cries, holding nothing back. Such a pitiful sight.

I sit down next to her and, to be honest, feel a little awkward. I've never had to deal with a crying person before, hell I've never had to deal with people before.

"My parents aren't coming to say goodbye to me," Aoki mutters through her tears.

"Why not?" I inquire, genuinly curious.

"Because it would be too sad," Aoki chokes out.

Caring makes people weak. Her parents are too weak to say goodbye to their only daughter before she's lead to the slaughter house. They're too weak to see their daughter one last time. They sicken me.

"You can't cry about them. You have to focus on winning," I say coldly.

Aoki turns her head to look at me, her tears cascading to the ground. "I'm not going to win," she says bitterly.

I don't have a response. It's true, Aoki Lapsis has a snowballs chance in hell of winning. Suddenly her face brightens.

"You might win," she says.

I simply nod my head. I hadn't really considered winning.

"Will you remember me if you win?" she asks.

"I'll remember you even if I don't." I say simply. I don't know where the soothing words are coming from.

Caring gives people a purpose. I may not win, but now I have to at least try. I laugh to myself. I'm going to win the hunger games for a damned girl I just met. What a logical world we live in


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2~ Trains of Thought

The District 9 Lovers

_Warmth. Love. Perfection. Those are the three things I feel. Bruno lets out a contented sigh. It's a lovely day. _

_ Bruno whispers in my ear, "When we are older and our parents allow it, we will be married." _

_ I nod my head and reply, "That would make all my dreams come true." Bruno started as a friend that developed into a crush of sorts. I laugh thinking of the day I first realized I liked him. But that crush has long since matured into something more, something greater. Mimicking him, I let out a long sigh. Ah, how great it is to be in love..._

Bruno and I sit as close as physically possible. As much as I tried to stop them, tears have begun rolling down my cheeks. I stare at Bruno, but he doesn't look at me. He is too angry. Too scared. Too pained. The moment our names were pulled from the pile and we were selected as tributes, any happy future for us together vanished, like a wisp of smoke.

"Would you like to see your mentor?" IA, our capitol representative asks.

"No," Bruno says through clenched teeth, "Just leave us alone."

IA quickly leaves the train car. For a capitol girl, she's pretty nice.

Bruno turns to me and gazes into my eyes, "Clara," he begins, "I want you to know that I won't kill you. Even if we are the last two left, I'll die first."

"I won't kill you either. If we are the last two left we shall kill ourselves before we hurt each other," I respond.

He smiles at me. Oh, God how I love his smile. I cup his face with my hand and pull him into a kiss. Bruno and I kiss frequently, but this one is different. This kiss is sad, I realize, this is a goodbye kiss. Neither of us break away, and I'm glad for it. I just want to sit in his arms forever. But I know forever doesn't exist. Forever was snatched away from us the day we were chosen as tributes.

After the kiss is over he embraces me tightly. I squeeze back, never wanting to let go.

He whispers those same words from long ago in my ear, "When we are older and our parents allow it, we will be married."

I respond, "That would make all my dreams come true." My voice breaks and I am crying again.

I cry because it is unfair. There are so many things I haven't done, so many things I want to do. I want to have a wedding. I want to be a mother. I want to have a happily ever after.

Bruno pulls away from the hug and says, "Clara, we don't have time to wait until our parents allow it."

I blush furiously. He cant mean that... We are young still...

But he does. And the next thing I know I am being carried into Bruno's private room and as he pins me against the bed I think, _"This is the first and possibly the last time we will see each other like this."_

"I love you, Bruno."

Those are the last words I say before I am made senseless from lust.

The Brain From District 8~

Everyone looks at me with pity. I pity myself to an extent, given the circumstances, but not as much as they do. Even Kiyoteru looks at me with pity, and he's got it just as bad as I do. Well, maybe not as bad. He's 18 and I'm only 12, giving him the physical advantage. But I have an something that he doesn't. I have my wits.

My mother, Misuzu Kaai, is possibly the most educated woman in district 8. Although, in a district where the majority of the population are mindless factory workers, wits aren't usually appreciated. But my mother taught me everything, and I intend to use her knowledge as much as I can.

A representative from the capitol waltzes in. "My name is Tone Rion, and I will be telling you everything you need to know about being a tribute!" The woman has a ridiculous name and a ridiculous outfit to match.

Tone Rion jabbers on and on about the rules and regulations of the hunger games. Kiyoteru listens intently, but I don't bother. There is nothing this woman can tell me that I don't already know.

What I need is a strategy. I don't have any fighting experience and I don't think I could kill anyone. I don't know how to hunt or what plants are safe to eat and I'm from an underlying district so my chances of snagging a sponsor are zero to none. What I need is an alliance, but who is going to align themselves with a worthless 12 year old girl?

"Ooh!" Rion squeals, "The broadcast is about to start!"

I barely stifle a sigh. On the broadcast all of Panem will get to see how weak and worthless I am. Rion blathers about some useless thing I probably already know about and I stare out the window, barely paying attention. The T.V announcer begins.

"My name is Ruko Yokune and I'm here with game maker Piko Utatane!" Piko brushes a lock of white hair from his face and speaks,

"Thank you Ruko, this year's tributes look very interesting. This will be a very exciting games indeed."

I shudder. Something about Piko's voice sends shudders down my spine. Something about that man is just wrong.

Ruko continues in a charismatic way, "An without further ado, let's look at our tributes! From district 1 we have Miku Hatsune and Mikou Hatsune"

A picture of the boy and girl from district one appears behind them. They look so perfect, just like every other tribute from district one. I don't listen to them announce the tributes from district two or three.

"...and from district 4 Lily Katsuya and Oliver Akita!"

I look at Oliver's picture and in an instant I have an answer to all of my problems. Who wants to align themselves with a worthless twelve year old girl? An equally as worthless twelve year old boy.

The Forgotten Girl From District 10~

I remember everyone from my school thought my name was weird. Aoki Lapis means blue princess. They would always tease me and tell me I was "far from being a princess" and I would laugh and shrug and pretend it didn't bother me even though it did. And now when I think about this now I realize that none of it matters. I almost want to laugh, but I can't.

I look to my right and see Kaito staring out the window, watching the countryside fade. The train moves remarkably fast, so we should be in the capitol in less than a day. Up until today I never really noticed Kaito. Sure, I knew that he was an upperclassman at school but I never talked to him. Until today. Today he comforted me and said he'd remember me. He doesn't even know me.

But as much as he doesn't know me, I don't know him either. Will his parents miss him? Does he have siblings? Aunts? Uncles? Cousins? Friends? Did he have a girlfriend? Was there a girl he liked that he never got a chance to confess to? Does he have regrets?

I shake my head, trying to free my mind from all of these questions. I don't have time to worry about him. I need to worry about me. For once in my life I need to be selfish.

But even as I try to think about my strategy for the games, my mind falls back to Kaito. Who is this mysterious boy, no, mysterious man who dried my tears and helped me in my most vulnerable state? How does he plan to win? Will he remember me? Or were his words only talk to get me to stop crying?

I put my face in my hands. I'm hopeless. I'm never going to win. But at least someone will remember me. I look to my right and glance at Kaito. Somehow I can die happier knowing my memory will live on in this mysterious man


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3~ Styling

Coal Miners From District 12

"You simply won't do," my stylist, Lenka remarks in possibly the most condescending voice capable of being uttered by a human being. I roll my eyes. I've gotten quite good at that in my 13 years of living.

"You're too short, too flat chested and your _hair_! Where do I even begin?" Apparently this woman has never seen a more foul looking human being that me. I can't help but smile.

"Maybe you should just ask for new tributes," I say coldly.

She shakes her head and furrows her brow, "Believe me, Teto, I would if I could, but I can't. So we're just going to have to make do, I have a lovely idea that will most certainly make you look gorgeous!"

Her voice is too high pitched and I want to cover my ears. I don't want to look gorgeous or lovely. I look to my left and see Ted staring at God knows what. I shake my head and my curly pigtails bounce from side to side.

"Stop shaking your head! You'll make your hair even more unmanageable than it already is!"

I can't help but smirk. Something about making this woman mad makes me feel better.

Hours of waxing and scrubbing go by and by the end of it I don't even look like myself. I am wearing nothing but a black strip of fabric around my chest and a three inch tube that barely qualifies as a skirt around my waist. I'm covered head to toe in black dust and my curly hair has been fashioned to look like drill bits used in the mines. I don't look lovely or gorgeous, I look scary.

Lenka is still shaking her head in dismay, "If you only had more cleavage, than this outfit wouldn't look nearly as preposterous. Perhaps we could stuff it with some sort of padding..."

In this situation, back at home, I would've lost my temper. I would've screamed and punched and kicked until this situation turned in my favor, which it always did eventually. But today is different. Today I'm not myself. Today I'm a charcoal freak exposing her body for the entire world to see. Today I can do nothing except smile and try to look desirable for sponsors that I know won't pick me.

Staring in the mirror, I see Ted has walked up behind me. I cover my eyes with my forearm. Once you are a tribute no one can see you cry.

"That idiot Lenka got charcoal in my eyes," I say through clenched teeth. Lenka says something about me being an ungrateful little swine but I barely hear her. I hear a door slam.

"She's gone now," Ted whispers, "We're alone."

I fight to maintain composure, but maintaining composure has never been one of my strong suits. I always let my anger flare up or my tears fall down. As unpredictable as my mood might be, I've never kept my feelings hidden from anyone.

I feel a hand lowering my forearm from my face. I see Ted smiling at me in the mirror. The tears I fought so hard to keep from flowing have cascaded down, leaving streaks in my charcoal painted face. Ted continues to lower my arm until it is resting at my side. He entwines his fingers in mine. We look at our reflections. By ourselves we might've looked ridiculous, but together, we look determined, like we're fighting for something.

There'a something to be said for safety in numbers.

The Lucky Ones From District 1

Outside my door I can hear the hushed murmurs of paparazzi. It's against the rules for them to interview us before the opening ceremonies, but still they persist.

"Why don't you just let them in so I can give them something to write about?" I ask my stylist.

"Mikou, don't speak so loudly, they'll hear you!" she says, shushing me, "Besides, you should be thinking about your strategy for the games!"

I roll my eyes and straighten my tie in the mirror. This stylist obviously hasn't worked with district one tributes before. For other districts, it's different, they only care about what happens in that arena, whether their tributes live or die. But district 1 isn't like the other districts. We're not here just to win the capitols meager games, we're here to do more than that.

To us the hunger games is a business venture. Us tributes are chosen not for our physical superiority, but for our ability to be impressive. Miku and I are tributes because we can put on a good show. We're entertaining, persuasive, intelligent and good looking. People in the other districts say that the capitol alway looks kindly on district 1, that we have it easier than they do. This is completely true, but there is a reason for it. District 1 sends the capitol brilliant little playthings each Hunger Games. We represent our district well, and are rewarded for it. Each year, a new tribute from district 1 takes the stage and dazzles the capitol. This year the torch has been passed to me, and I intend to make the most of my opportunities.

"Mikou, I'm dressed," Miku announces as she exits the changing room. She stands beside me, the mirror reflecting to ideal individuals, what tributes ought to be.

"You look lovely," I say, flashing her my winning smile, I've worked hours to perfect.

"And you look like a handsome devil," she says, squeezing my shoulder. To anyone else, the compliment would've seemed sincere, and the physical contact, natural. But I know it is nothing more than a marketing ploy.

Miku and I stare at the door. Just beyond it, droves of reporters wish to bombard us with questions and proposals and scams. Let them. I've spent my whole life preparing for it.

The Electric Pair from District 5

Last night I had a dream that almost made me cry. It was a dream about when Rin and I were little kids playing underneath the electrical lines in the hazy summer heat. I remember she was laughing the way she used to, jovial, innocent, free. The dream itself was beautiful. It was reality that made me want to cry.

I shake the dream out of my head and try to pay attention to our mentor, a hardheaded, unpleasant woman in her mid-thirties, SeeU.

"The Hunger Games isn't just about physical strength, it's also a social game. Because of this aspect, you two might actually have a chance of winning."

I notice Rin perk up noticeably. She hasn't given up on survival yet. It makes me smile slightly, maybe I shouldn't give up either.

"You two have a thing that people will remember. You're siblings! Twins! People will remember that. So we are going to have to play that up as much as possible," SeeU says.

"How do we do that?" Rin asks.

"Well, we'll start with the opening ceremony outfits. District 5 is the power district so your outfits will have something to do with electricity or generators. Your outfits will be identical, but that isn't enough. You two will have to be the same, act the same, eat the same, move perfectly in sync, finish each others sentences. People will notice that and remember you. That's the key to winning the Hunger Games, having people remember you," SeeU, concludes.

Rin looks optimistic, too optimistic. SeeU makes it sound as if winning the Hunger Games will be a cakewalk.

"I have a question," I say, "If Rin and I are the final two people left, what then? One of us will have to die."

"You'll have to work that out amongst yourselves," SeeU replies, her voice sickly sweet, her smile even sicker.

"Why would you say something like that, Len?!" Rin shouts. She has tears in her eyes, she storms out of the room slamming the door behind her. SeeU turns to look at me.

"Well, if you keep making her angry, you won't have to worry about killing her because you'll already be dead," SeeU says before walking out of the room as well.

I know Rin won't kill me, or even stay mad at me for long. She's just upset because I brought her back to the reality of the situation. As much as it pains me to do that, I have too. Rin is like a bird, meant to fly up in the clouds, but life is like a rock, thrown at birds like her to send them plummeting to the ground.


End file.
